


The Only Defence

by Corycides



Series: Ecstasy of Betrayal [2]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kinkmeme, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corycides/pseuds/Corycides
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to The Only Truth. Charlie has made her bed, but how can she tell her family and friends she's lying in it? And with who?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Apparently being General Monroe’s favourite pet meant you didn’t get to slink back to your own bed at the end of the night. Charlie curled up in the middle of the bed, body tight under the possessive drape of Monroe’s arm while she listened to Miles snore.

On their way here she’d found it oddly soothing, if he was snoring instead of pretending to sleep then he thought they were safe. Here he was too close and too…naked. Charlie could feel the heat of him against her skin, make out the sprawl of his body in the dim light. Scooting closer to Monroe, whose thigh was a hard line against her hip, didn't seem the answer.

It took her an hour before she summoned up the courage to try and move, gingerly pushing Monroe’s arm off her hip and scooting towards the edge of the bed. Monroe just grunted and rolled over, stretching out to fill the abandoned space. Miles woke up, snoring cut off like someone had pinched his nose shut, but he didn’t anything.

Angry as she was with him, she felt almost sick with gratitude for that. Once up, she didn’t know where to go and she ached too much to go fumbling around in the dark. She found her shirt on the floor and put it on, before curling up in one of the huge, leather chairs. 

Charlie didn’t remember hearing Miles start to snore again, but she dozed off after a while. Her dreams were fractured and upsetting, full of her Dad looking sad and disapproving and Maggie yelling at her for being a traitor. When she woke up someone had tucked a blanket around her shoulders. 

She curled her fingers into it, considering the possibility of just pulling it over her head and refusing to come out. That wasn’t really an option though. She looked up, eyes flicking to the bed. It was empty.

‘Bass is gone,’ Miles said, opening a door she’d not noticed in the intricately patterned wall. He was damp and shirtless, cleaner shaved than she’d ever seen him, with new militia issue trousers hanging low around his hips. 

Charlie flushed and looked away, but that seemed…stupid. Last night she’d seen more than his bare chest and pretending she hadn’t wouldn’t make things go back to normal. She looked back at him.

‘What now?’ she asked, pulling the blanket over her knees. She twisted her mouth uncertainly. ‘Is that it? Do I just-‘

Just what? Find herself a room? Ask if they needed help in the kitchen?

‘I doubt it,’ Miles said. He walked over to the bed and sat down, kicking his feet into his boots. At least they hadn’t changed, Charlie thought, feeling a ridiculous burst of nostalgia for things that stunk like a dead badger by the fire. ‘Bass wants you around.’

Charlie pushed a hank of hair behind her ear. ‘To control you.’  
Miles twisted his mouth and looked away, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. ‘Yeah,’ he said ‘I’m sorry, Charlie, but you knew from the beginning I was a bastard.’

It wasn’t as if she could argue with that. She uncurled her legs, sore from her knees to her ribs, and shrugged. ‘Yeah, well, maybe I should have listened. Didn’t get you what you wanted though, did it?’ she asked. ‘You can’t touch.’

Miles snorted and stood up. ‘Charlie, if I always obeyed Bass the last five years would gone very different.’ He closed the space between then and cupped her face in his hand. ‘I’m not going to push you.’

‘You already did,’ she pointed out.

His mouth twitched dryly. ‘Anymore, then.’ And he kissed her, a soft brush of his lips over hers. His hand slipped from her cheek and trailed down to the snall of her back. ‘But I’m not going to give up either. I ran you a bath, it’ll relax your muscles. This afternoon, you start training with the militia.’

She forgot to shove him away, her hand just braced against his warm chest. ‘What?’

He wrapped his hand around her arm, pressing his palm against the brand. ‘He told you, you’re a member of his militia now. That means training. Now go soak, I’ll see you later.’

Miles turned away to finish dressing, buckling himself into the heavy jacket. Charlie suddenly remembered to grab his arm, tugging until he looked at her.

‘I want to see Danny,’ she said. ‘I need to know he’s ok. You promised I could, that wasn’t a lie too?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Tonight. I’ll sort it with Bass. Promise.’

His promises had been a lot more comforting before, when she could trust him. It was all she had though, so she needed to believe it. She let go and he left.

Alone at last, Charlie stood in the middle of the room feeling lost. For want of anything better to do she went to check out the bath. It made Drexler’s look like a bucket, huge enough to lie down in and full of steaming, flowery water. The walls were lined with mirrors from floor to ceiling. Charlie couldn’t even work out in her head how much they’d cost.

She hesitated, curling her toes, as she wondered if she should resist on principle. But she was sore and at least in here she didn’t have to look at the bed. She shrugged off the blanket and shirt, balling them on the toilet, and climbed into the bath.

The water scalded her toes and ankles and she swirled her feet around, waiting for it too cool a little so she could sit down. A shift of movement in the corner of her eye made her look up, but it was just her reflection.

Charlie stared at herself, stomach cramping. There were bruises on her throat – lovebites didn’t seem the right term – and faint blue bruises on the pale skin of her breasts, around her nipples. Blood and come had dried stickily on her thighs. Ignoring the heat she sank down into the water, covering herself to her chin and scrubbing until she felt cleanish.


	2. Chapter 2

Bass sat back, idly rubbing his wrists, and listened patiently to Neville rant about how Miles needed to be punished. He meant killed, but even Neville wasn’t angry enough to demand that.

‘Enough,’ Bass said finally, as Neville circled back to ‘threatened my wife’ for the third time. He resisted the urge to comment that Miles had picked the right spouse to threaten; Julia would never have folded. ‘You’re quite right, Major, I do need to focus more on military imperatives.’

Neville had the wit to look nervous. Shame he hadn’t the wit to shut up and leave while Bass was still feeling mellow from the evenings entertainment. He reached for pen and paper and scripted the orders as he spoke.

‘I’m sending you to Texas,’ he said. 

‘You can’t do that,’ Neville said.

Bass looked up, face cold. ‘I think I can. We need to know what Texas will do when the Republic moves against Georgia. You’re going to find that out for me. Don’t worry, though, your wife and son will be here. Under my protection.’

He folded the paper, setting the crease with a scrape of his nail, and held it out. Neville glared, a tic fluttering in the corner of his eye, and put his hand on his gun. Behind the guards stiffened, raising their rifles.

It took a long, slow second, but Neville grudgingly bent his neck and reached for the paper. Bass hung on to it.

‘You understand, Tom,’ he said. ‘This is a punishment for questioning me, but its also something that needs done. I trust you to be able to separate the two.’

Neville worked his lips around the bad taste of that but nodded. ‘I am loyal to the militia, General.’

He took the orders, scanted on a salute and strode out, not looking right or left. In the corner of the room Jeremy looked up from the half-stickered Rubiks cube he was playing with.  
‘Well, that’s Neville,’ he said. ‘Is everyone who thinks welcoming Miles back is a bad idea getting sent to Texas? I just need to send someone to get me some cowboy boots.’

Bass gave his second oldest friend a cool look across the desk. ‘I’d send you to California. After the last earthquake, I hear they’re in need of a good laugh.’

Jeremy smirked and stood up, tugging his uniform straight. ‘As you wish.’

He waited. Bass raised his eyebrow. After pulling a hope ‘anything’ face, Jeremy sighed and gave up.

‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘But the Mathesons aren’t Pokemon, General. You can’t collect them all.’

‘And yet I have,’ Bass said. His voice went cold. ‘You’re dismissed Captain.’

Jeremy rolled arguments around in his mouth, but grudgingly held his tongue. The man looked like a bruiser, but he’d been a psychiatrist before the Blackout. He knew when not to push. Left alone – except for the guards, but who counted them – Bass twiddled the pen between his fingers.

One thing he’d learnt since Miles had left was that he could, in fact, do whatever he wanted, whether that was invade Georgia or his best friend back where he belonged. It just took a little manipulation.

Laying the pen down he stood up, shrugging his jacket back on, and went to see Rachel. She was hard at work on the amplifier when he walked into the room, apparently finally cowed into believing he meant what he said.

‘Rachel,’ he said, circling the work-bench. He put his hands over hers, feeling the twitch of bone and tendon before they stilled. ‘I’ve good news.’

Her mouth twisted and her eyes lifted to his face. ‘For you? Or for me?’

‘Both,’ he said, leaning forwards. ‘Your long-lost daughter has come home, Rachel, and she’s all grown up.’

All that icy reserve that she hid behind, she never realized it was thin as frost. Her lips trembled and parted, eyes filling with tears.

‘Where? Where is she?’ she asked.

Bass smiled and rubbed circles around her wristbones with his thumbs. ‘Last I saw her, in my bed,’ he said. Rachel flinched, recoiling, and he clamped down on her wrists to hold her still. ‘She came with Miles, to kill me, but we came to another agreement.’

‘Charlie wouldn’t,’ she said, voice shaking with conviction.  
‘Come, Rachel,’ Bass said. ‘I’ve spent more quality time with the girl than you have in the last decade. And we weren’t exactly talking.’

She glared at him like she’d wished she’d stabbed him with the screwdriver instead of poor Professor Jaffe. Well, she probably did. Bass leant forwards, still smiling.

‘Don’t worry, Rachel,’ he said. ‘I’ve no intention of hurting Charlie, as long as she does what I want.’

Her tongue flicked over her lips and she took a deep breath. ‘What does that mean?’

‘That means that Charlie’s well-being is entirely dependent on you, Rachel,’ he said. ‘Tell her the truth about why you’re here and some of the more…trying…days of our friendship? She’ll fight me and she’ll get hurt. Now I don’t want that. Do you?’

A bitter smile twisted her mouth. ‘What do you want me to tell her?’

He released her hands and tucked her hair behind her ear, ignoring the way she flinched away from him. 

‘Why you’re here, that you’re my prisoner,’ he said. ‘Charlie isn’t any under illusions about me being nice, but you’ve been well-treated. You can’t complain.’

Her lips skinned back from her teeth. ‘You let Strausser at me,’ she said.

‘Oh, Rachel, that could have been worse,’ he said. ‘I could let Strausser at Charlie.’

There was never much colour in Rachel’s face, not after nearly 10 years away from the sun, but she still managed to blanch. Her mouth opened and closed again, lips pulling tight over her teeth.

‘I’ll tell her whatever you want,’ she said. ‘As long as you don’t hurt her, you don’t hurt Danny.’

He kissed her cheek, tasting the salty residue of dried tears. ‘That’s the deal she made too,’ he murmured in her ear.


	3. Chapter 3

The padded stick whacked into Charlie’s side. She huffed in pain – Sergeant Taylor kept aiming at the same spot – and fell back a step, hugging her ribs. One of the other recruits – Denny, he’d introduced himself, after the restaurant apparently – darted forward from the left. Right into Taylor’s foot. 

Denny landed on his back with a thump, wheezing her air, and the next contender had to step over him. Charlie dropped to the back of the crowd to grab a dipper of water from the jug.

She was sweating , her hair matted to the back of her neck, and sore all over, but it felt good. Clean. Even though it turned her stomach a little to see how different Philadelphia recruits were treated compared to those in the outlying districts. Taylor might be tough, but she hadn’t beaten anyone to death to make a point yet.

‘Greg,’ Miles said, striding into the training hall. He looked, somehow, a lot more him in his uniform. More sure of himself. ‘Can I borrow Charlie?’

Taylor put his opponent down, sweeping his legs from under him and giving him a whack on the ear as he went down. Tucking the practice sword under his arm he glanced over his shoulder at Charlie.

‘She needs to practice,’ he said. ‘I would have thought your protégée would be better.

His voice was a ruined scrape. The other recruits had told Charlie that he’d been tortured by rebels. From the way they were whispering to each other now, eyes flicking between her and Miles like they looking for the matching horns, they wouldn’t be telling her anything else for a while.

Charlie glared at Miles and tugged at the straps on her practice gear, squirming out of it while he assured Taylor she was better with a bow. He sounded proud. How could that still make her feel good about herself? Why did she care what he thought?

She stacked her gear on the table and scuffed her way across the floor to Miles. He nodded to Taylor and escorted her out into the hall with his hand in the small of her back. She tried to speed up, but he hooked his fingers in her belt and tugged her back.

‘Charlie,’ he said. ‘You gotta give me a chance.’

She scraped her tangled hair back from her face, shoving it over her shoulder, and looked up at him. ‘I don’t think I do.’

‘Who else you got?’

‘Danny,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I got Danny.’

‘The asthmatic prisoner?’ he asked. ‘I’m just saying, General Matheson might be more use.’

Tears stung Charlie’s eyes. She scrubbed her hand over her face in frustration. Miles swore under his breath.  
‘Charlie, don’t-‘

She shoved his hand away. ‘I’m not crying for me,’ she hissed. ‘Two days ago? I loved you because you were you, just cos. But you threw that away, and all you got now is that you’d be useful. It’s sad.’

This time he let her put some distance between them. Charlie could feel him staring at though. She ignored it, and the fact that he was still her best chance of getting out her and Danny out of here. If she started trying to plan anything right now, she’d just end up screaming in a corner.

She reached the end of the hall and realized she didn’t know what way to go. Stopping she waited for Miles to catch up, tapping her foot impatiently.

‘Where are we going anyhow?’ she asked sullenly. 

‘There’s someone you need to meet,’ he said. He sounded...strange, the way he did when he was going to save someone even when it was a bad idea. 

‘Danny?’ she asked.

‘Later. This person first, I didn’t know they were here.’

‘Who?’

He chewed his lip instead of answering, then grabbed her arm and hustled her through a door. There was a man in the green tweed of an officer behind the desk. He scrambled to his feet, spluttering in offense.

‘Out,’ Miles barked. 

‘On whose ord-‘

‘General Matheson.’

The man went a funny colour and nearly tripped over his own feet to do what he was told. Miles kicked the door back behind it and shoved Charlie against it, looking down at her with a hungry expression on his face.

She squirmed in place, trying to wriggle away. ‘You said you’d give me time.’

‘Yeah,’ he sighed. ‘Bass screws up nearly as many of my plans as you do, Charlie.’

He ducked his head and kissed her, not lightly this time. His lips slashed roughly over hers, his teeth catching on her lower lip. The muscled length of him was pressed against her. Somehow she’d felt like he should be bulkier than Bass, but he wasn’t. Instead he was all rangy bones and lean muscle.

His tongue flicked over her lips, tracing the seam of them, and his hand slid between her thighs. She gasped in protest and his tongue darted into her mouth, pressing the taste of him onto her tongue.

Charlie’s breath hitched on a sob. She couldn’t do this. It was wrong and it was sick. It didn’t matter that Miles didn’t think of her as his niece. He wasn’t just some guy she’d met, who could do anything and saved her and given up everything to help her.

It would be different if that guy was kissing her. 

Distracted by her thoughts her muscles relaxed and Miles made a rough sound, pushing her back against the door. The stubble on his face scraped her skin and when he shifted his weight she could feel the hard bulge of his cock against her stomach.

That slapped her back into reality and she shoved at his chest until he stopped kissing her. Miles swore under his breath and rested his forehead against hers, his hands resting on her hips. His mouth was tight and his face lean and hard with tension. 

Charlie gingerly reached up to touch his cheek. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to just…love Nora?’ she asked. ‘She loves you.’

His mouth tilted into a bitter smile. ‘Tried that already. You think I can’t blow things up on my own?’ he asked. ‘It’s not that easy, Charlie.’

‘I’m not that special,’ she said, screwing her mouth up on one side.

‘Yeah, you are,’ Miles said, pushing himself back off the door. He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. ‘You remember I think that, ok?’

She searched his face, looking for a clue to what was going on. There was nothing she could read, but then she guessed she didn’t know him as well as she thought. 

‘Miles-‘

‘Come on,’ he said, stepping back. He yanked the door open and led her out. The flustered officer was still waiting outside. Charlie went red and looked down at her feet as she marched by.

She watched the tiles scuff by under her head until they reached Monroe’s quarters. Her stomach turned and she felt bile in the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, this was what she’d agreed to wasn’t it? Being his…his whore, at his beck and call.

Miles reached over her shoulder and pushed the door open. A blonde woman was standing in the middle of the room, twisting her hands together nervously. A quick smile flitted over her face and she stepped forwards, holding her hands.

‘Charlie?’ she said. ‘Charlie, it’s me. I’ve missed you so much.’


	4. Chapter 4

Nora was led out into the courtyard in shackles, a purple bruise swelling her cheek. Her dark hair was cropped short and she was wearing a shapeless tunic and grey trousers that draped over her bare feet.

When she saw Charlie her face brightened with relief, just for a second, and then she took in the Militia uniform and the sword she was wearing. Her mouth twisted bitterly and she shook her head.

‘You stupid cow,’ she sighed.

The guard clipped the back of her head. ‘Keep a civil tongue in your head.’

‘Don’t!’ Charlie snapped. ‘Look, give me a minute? I need to talk to her.’

‘She’s a prisoner,’ he said.

‘And General Monroe said you I could talk to her,’ Charlie said, stiffening her shoulders. ‘So let me do it. Unless you want to lecture on security?’

The grunted and slung his rifle over his shoulder. ‘No skin off my nose.’ He left them there and headed over to the wagon, checking the harness with thick fingers and thumping the huge carthorses affectionately.

‘So you have the ear of the man himself,’ Nora said. ‘I suppose I should have expected that. Monroe always did like them young and dumb. You're lucky, him and Miles used to share everything. One thing you don't have to worry about I suppose.’

Charlie bit her lip and took a deep breath, trying to hold onto her temper and her blush. ‘I didn’t have a choice,’ she said.

‘Naw,’ Nora said. ‘You had a choice, Charlie. It might have been a hard choice, but you could pick right or you could pick wrong. And you picked wrong. You picked Miles.’

Even after everything, Charlie bristled in defense of him. ‘He saved your life,’ she said. ‘We stay, you live. What do think we should do? Die for the tattoo on your back?’

‘For the United States,’ she said. ‘A place where no-one has to make these sorts of deals.’

Charlie shrugged. ‘I don’t know if I believe that place ever existed,’ she said. ‘If I did I don’t really remember it, not well enough to die for it. Sorry, Nora.’

‘Don’t be sorry for me. Sometimes dying is easier to live with than the alternative. You’re going to learn how true that is. Goodbye, Charlie. If you’re still wearing that uniform the next time I see you, I’ll kill you.’

She walked away, back straight and head up. It must be awesome, Charlie, supposed, to be so sure of yourself. She was left dragging her feet back over to the bench where Danny was waiting.

Her little brother waited until she sat down next to him and slung his arm over her shoulder. ‘You ok?’

‘Dunno,’ she said. Taking his hand she interlocked their fingers and studied them. Two bony hands: one tanned and one with scars on the fingertips. ‘You think she’s right? Think I made the wrong decision?’

They’d not talked about it. Charlie hoped they never would. He knew where she spent her nights though, and with who.

‘Do you?’ Danny asked.

‘I got you back, I got mom back,’ she said, and they shared an uncomfortable look. It was weird having the dead back. She’d been easy to love in death, alive she was stiff and precise and loved them so much it was mean to huff in annoyance at her rules about where things went. ‘’I can live with the rest.’

He nodded. ‘You’re my sister. You walked a thousand miles to get me back. I’m not going to judge you for anything.’ He lent his head against hers, bright blonde against coin-gold. ‘And if we get a chance to run, we can still go.’

‘Where?’ she asked, barely moving her lips. It used to be Danny’s role in their game, he’d ask where and she’d imagine something, somewhere. They’d swapped now.

‘The Wastelands,’ he said. ‘It’s hard, but people live there. We’re tough, we could. People always need food, we could farm.’

Actually, Charlie wouldn’t complain if she never had to spend a whole day crawling around on her knees in the dirt again. She’d never liked farming, it was just what they’d done.

‘A shop,’ she suggested instead. They had shops in Philadelphia, where you actually bought things with chits instead of barter. It seemed a good blend of settled down and interesting.

She sat leaning against Danny until Nora was loaded onto the wagon and driven out of town. Then she waited a little longer just in case the driver came back in ten minutes with no cargo and a shovel. Nora had a letter she was meant to send back if she was released safe – but she didn’t have any reason to bother.

When the gates stayed closed she eventually got up and offered Danny her hand, hauling him to his feet. Instead of letting go, though, she hung onto his hand. 

‘Are you ok here?’ she asked, searching his face. ‘I mean, if you wanted to go home, I could talk Monroe into it.’

Danny’s hand tightened around hers. ‘You don’t ask that man anything for me,’ he said, voice dropping a note. ‘Not again.’

‘I want you to be happy,’ Charlie said.

‘Would you leave me here?’ he asked. She bit her lip instead of answering and he snorted. ‘See?’

‘I’m older than you,’ she argued as they headed back into the hall. ‘It’s my job to take care of you.’

He bumped his shoulder against hers. ‘Maybe we could just take care of each other?’ he suggested. ‘Like Maggie would have wanted.’

That was another subject they danced around. How were they meant to tell their mom that while she had been in prison, their Dad had taken up with another woman? Who’d been as good as mom to Charlie, despite her best efforts, and pretty much the only mom Danny really remembered.

So they didn’t. Only that wasn’t really fair to Maggie either, as it?

‘Yeah,’ Charlie said, bumping his shoulder back. ‘That sounds right. Thanks, Danny.’


	5. Chapter 5

Forgiving Miles was easier than trusting him.

Bass clenched his hand around the glass until his knuckles hurt when Miles disagreed with him about the strategy with Georgia. The fact that all the other officers looked at him like he was an untrustworthy animal only riled him more. 

Tossing back the whiskey he stood up. Everyone flinched, even Miles. Good. If he was a mad dog then he’d rather be the best mad dog. He set the glass down deliberately, with a chink instead of a crash.

‘None of this is even relevant without up-to-date information on Georgia’s plans,’ he said. ‘With our attention…divided…recently, our intelligence is hardly up to date. Matheson will remedy that. Then we’ll discuss what to do next.’

Dismissed the rest of the officers filed out, relieved as if they’d gotten a reprieve from the firing squad. Miles shuffled his papers and looked at Bass.

‘So, this a display of trust,’ he asked. ‘Or punishment by paperwork?’

Bass smiled thinly ‘Can’t it be both? You better get on with it, all the chaos you sowed on the way here really slowed progress on the Georgia front down.’

He left Miles swearing over cramped, coded spy reports and headed back to his quarters, tugging his jacket open as the guards opened the door for him. Tossing his jacket over a chair he went over to his desk to poke at the piles of paperwork waiting his attention. 

Halfway through half-heartedly sorting through his correspondence - Jeremy had interesting ideas about sorting - he heard a noise in the bedroom. His eyes narrowed and he drew his gun, holding it against his thigh as he he went to investigate. Nudging the door open he edged in and stopped, eyes flicking over the length of Charlie sprawled on his bed. The rough grey uniform all the recruits wore was hardly flattering, but knowing what was under it puddled hot interest in his groin.

She was his…and it would serve Miles right.

He holstered his gun and walked over to the bed, tugging his belt loose. Charlie didn’t move until he braced his knee on the bed, then she jerked her head up. Big blue eyes blinked at him through a tangle of bright hair.

‘Sleeping isn’t what I want you in this bed for,’ he told her, trailing his hand along her calf.

‘Sorry,’ she said, propping herself gingerly up on her elbow. ‘I don’t have my own room.’

No. ‘Miles has a suite,’ he told her. Not that Miles had used it since he was back. In fact, Bass wasn’t entirely sure he even knew it was still there. His hand reached the curve of his backside. ‘Or do you just prefer it here?’

She stared at him, all eyes and caught between a rock and a hard place look. Her mouth opened and closed without any words coming out.

‘You have my permission to be honest,’ he said, sliding his hand up under her jacket. His fingers spread over the warm skin of her back.

‘I went to Danny’s room, but he wasn’t there.’

His thumbs brushed her ribs and she cringed away from him. Temper flared - it did so easily of late - and he grabbed the waistband of her trousers to flip her over onto her back. 

‘So I’m the best of a bad choice?’ he asked, straddling her thighs. A flick of the salacious gave his next sentence a lewd turn. ‘You wish you were in your brother’s bed instead?'

A few days ago, she might not have caught his meaning. Today her face went hot and pink, making her eyes all the bluer, and she glared.

‘That’s not what I meant.’

He jerked her jacket open roughly, shoving it off her shoulders. Dipping his head he freshened the fading bruise on her throat, worrying it back to raw life. His hands cupped her breasts and she gasped, catching her lower lip between her teeth. Bass kissed it free. One hand curled up around his shoulder, fingers twisting in his shirt. Sitting back he tugged her top out of her trousers and tugged it open, revealing pale skin, wealed with red and purple blotches.

There was one right along the rib where his hand had been, red and pulpy looking. 

‘What happened?’ he growled, pushing the shirt back so he could see the discoloured shoulder of the arm she hadn’t moved. ‘

She twisted her mouth and looked away from him. ‘I should have zagged,’ she muttered. ‘Does it matter?’’

Bass grabbed her chin and pulled her attention back to him. ‘I promised your uncle I’d keep you safe,’ he said. ‘I promised you. What happened?’ 

He rolled off the bed and strode over to his dresser, fishing a jar of muscle rub from under his shirts. Two tours in Iran, 15 years fighting here and he’d never taken particularly good care of himself. Sometimes he felt it.

Charlie was sitting up when he turned around, rubbing at her shoulder with one hand. Long fingers dug into the joint determinedly, even though it was making her mouth tighten.

‘Tyler had us practicing melee,’ she said ‘It got a bit…out of hand. I don’t think every one is happy to have the Mathesons back.’

‘Lie down,’ Bass told her.

She pouted at him, so he grabbed her ankles and yanked. Her face screwed up as her back hit mattress, biting her lip again. He twisted the jar lid off and rubbed the hot, greasy ointment into his hands, the hot scent of it making his eyes sting. When he laid his hands on Charlie’s skin she jumped, eyeing him warily, but she relaxed as he just rubbed slow circles over her stomach and sides. Her head dropped back onto the pillows with a sigh.

‘Tyler didn’t stop it?’ he asked tightly.

She shook her head. That was a bruise in her hairline too, a smudge of blue disappearing into her hair. ‘Once they got me down, I don’t think he could see.’

Finished with her front, Bass rolled her over again. Gently this time. He stripped her jacket off and clenched his jaw at the blooming bruises over her sides and shoulders. 

‘Hopefully you got your own licks in,’ he said, rubbing her shoulders with practiced hands.

She snorted. ‘Danny and me used to get in a lot of fights,’ she said. ‘I did ok.’

His hands worked down from her shoulders to the small of her back in slow, probing circles. He could feel the tension leaking out of her, muscles loosening under bruised skin. It seemed to be seeping into him. He was so hard he ached, but somehow he didn’t wanted to crack this delicate ease.

‘What about your legs?’ he asked.

She looked over her shoulder, then hitched up her hips as she reached down to unbutton her trousers. 

‘I guess you couldn’t make out any of their faces?’ he asked. She shook her head and wriggled the waistband down over the flare of her hips. Taking them out of her hands he tugged them down the rest of the way. She was already barefoot.

There were bruises on her backside and thighs, and a split, purpling lump on her shin, dried blood scabbing on her skin. Nothing beyond what other recruits got, but she was his. They should have known not touch her.

‘Then I’ll punish them all,’ tracing the outlines of a bruise with his thumb. He felt the tension crystallize under his hands. 

‘Please, don’t,’ she said, twisting around. He can see fear in her eyes for the first time. Making the deal with him she’d been nervous, defiant and even angry. No fear, but there it is for a bunch of brutal, trainee thugs without the brains to know who not to beat up. ‘Don’t hurt them.’

‘What do you think I’m going to do to them?’ he asked.

Charlie rubs her arm, fingers tracing his mark on her skin. ‘I was in one of your re-education camps remember?’ she said. ‘I know how you make an ‘object lesson’ out of someone.’

‘How?’

‘Slotnick beat a kid to death,’ Charlie snapped, voice wobbling. ‘He just knocked him down and kept hitting him. You could hear his bones breaking. And Slotnick just kept hitting him until he stopped moving. Then he made us walk over him. These kids don’t deserve that.’

It sounded like Slotnick had been obeying Bass’ manual to the letter. The beating was to disorient the subjects, leave them uncertain how the rules worked and vulnerable to new ones.

It was a valid strategy, but Charlie looked so sickened by it. Bass actually found himself wanting to lie. He didn’t though.

‘I don’t that will be necessary,’ he said. ‘But I won’t let dissent fester.’

‘It won’t. It’ll be fine,’ Charlie said. ‘I’ll be fine, and you wanted me to be trained. If you intervene now, everyone will go easy on me.’

He pushed her back down into the pillows. ‘I’ll think about it.


	6. Chapter 6

Charlie lay on her stomach on the bed, head resting on her folded hands, as General Sebastian Monroe rubbed her feet. She’d been sleeping with him for over a week now, but this felt more vulnerable. The sex was part of the deal, a dickered over bargain. Maybe that was sick, but it was…simple.

Him pressing his thumbs against the arch of her feet, making her toes curl, wasn’t so easily parsed.

‘Penny for them?’ Monroe asked.

She wriggled her foot, making her ankle click. ‘I was wondering why you’re being so nice.’

‘I can’t be nice?’

‘You’re not known for it, General Monroe.’

He kissed her foot, making her squirm as teeth scraped over the ticklish skin. ‘You don’t have to quite so formal in bed.’

So call him Sebastian? Or Bass like Miles did? Charlie couldn’t imagine it. He wasn’t her friend, he wasn’t her lover. If they got the chance her and Danny would be heading for the Wastelands, or the Plains Nation. Anywhere that wasn’t here.

‘Charlie?’ Monroe prompted.

‘OK,’ she said.

He squeezed her foot. ‘Say it.’

‘Monroe?’ she offered.

He laughed and got up off the bed. Charlie rolled onto her back and sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest. Everything still ached, but she’d gotten used to that after…everything. Pulling her hair over her shoulder she picked the tangles out of it.

‘Why would-‘

The door swung and Miles strode in. He took one look at Charlie and his face went dark with fury. ‘You son-of-a-bitch,’ he snarled, crashing across the room and into Monroe. He slammed the other man against the dresser, sending all the little stone dohickeys Monroe collecting smashing to the floor. ’What did you do to her.’

‘Other that what you wish you could to her?’ Monroe taunted him. Because he’d been nice, Charlie realized, and no-one appreciated it. It didn’t occur to him that when you weren’t ever nice, then nice just looked like a trap.  
Monroe rammed his knee into Miles’ stomach, Miles headbutted Monroe and then went crashing to the ground in a swearing brawl of two. They rolled around on the floor punching and throttling at each other while Charlie hissed at them to stop it.

If one of the guards heard and came in… OK, everyone knew why she was here, in the room, but she liked to pretend they couldn’t. She jumped off the bed and grabbed the bowl of water from the nightstand, heaving the cold, sudsy water over both of them.

Monroe swore, curls plastered flat to his head, and rolled off Miles, who spat out soap and glared up at Charlie. ‘What the fuck?’ he asked. Great, now they weren’t angry at each other, they were angry at her.

‘He didn’t do anything to me,’ she told Miles, very clearly. ‘I got hurt in practice and he gave me a…gave me some muscle rub.’

While her uncle looked irritated at being wrong Charlie swung to look at Monroe, who wiped water off his mouth. She lifted her chin, if she was going to get into trouble for throwing water over him she might as well say her piece.

‘And you can’t blame me, you’ve done worse than hit someone,’ she said.

Monroe scrambled easily to his feet, his shirt soaked. ‘I’m not a rapist,’ he said. ‘Miles should know that.’

‘You didn’t used to be a lot of things,’ Miles said. ‘That changed didn’t it?’

‘I could say the same about you,’ Monroe pointed out. ‘Everything I did, Miles, you did too. It’s just that when you ran away, I stayed to deal with everything. So don’t play the Paladin, it doesn’t fool me.’

Miles looked down, hair dripping into his face. ‘I know,’ he said.

After an awkward pause Monroe offered his hand and Miles accepted it, getting hauled roughly to his feet. They stood, hands clasped tight.

‘It’s not as easy as I’d thought,’ Miles admitted abruptly. ‘Coming back. I don’t want to leave,’ he assured Monroe’s narrow eyed look. ‘It’s just not as easy.’

If anything Monroe actually looked relieved. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s not.’

They stood there for a second, leaning into each other. ‘I liked me before better too,’ Monroe admitted eventually, stepping back.

‘I think we all liked ourselves better before the Blackout,’ Miles said wryly. 

Charlie shrugged. ‘I was, like, 5.’

Miles winced, looked at her and then abruptly looked away. Red crawled up the back of his neck to ears. ‘Charlie? Put some clothes on,’ he suggested in a strained voice.

She jumped, registering how naked she was, and grabbed for her shirt, clutching it to her chest. Monroe promptly yanked it out of her hands, her clutching fingers tearing the sleeve.

‘Lie down, Charlie,’ he told her.

The thought of sex while her ribs hurt wasn’t pleasant, but there was no wriggle room in Monroe’s order. Chewing on her tongue in a twisted mixture of resentment, fear and just a little anticipation, Charlie crawled up onto the bed. Monroe stripped off his clothes efficiently, his torso sporting the red marks that would turn into his own bruises.

He was already hard and he wrapped his hand around his shaft, squeezing lightly as he pumped his hand back and forwards.. ‘Charlie,’ he asked. ‘Do you know how to suck cock?’

The words choked her, so she just shook her head quickly. Monroe got onto the bed and she pressed her lips tight together, reminding herself that she could do this. Instead of touching her, though, he sprawled over the bed with his head in her lap. His long legs were slightly spread, one knee raised, as he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock.

‘Maybe you should show her Miles,’ he suggested, glancing down at himself.

Miles grimaced. ‘Fuck off, Bass.’

‘What?’ Monroe pointed out. ‘Not like we’ve not done it before. Remember that woman in Phoenix. She thought it was hot.’

‘She was a freak,’ Miles pointed out through clenched teeth.

‘People who screw family members shouldn’t throw stones,’ Monroe said.lazily. He tilted his head back, curls brushing against Charlie’s stomach and his shoulders nudging her thighs apart. It sent tingles of uncomfortable awareness twitching through her stomach. ‘What do you think, Charlie? Would you like to see?’

‘I…I don’t-‘ Charlie stammered, glancing uncertainly at Miles. She didn’t. Probably. It would be gross, right? ‘No? Not if Miles doesn’t want.’

Miles flinched and looked away, like she’d said he had to do it instead of offering him an out. Slowly he unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off, hanging it over the base of the bed.

‘And turn about is fair play?’ he asked, raking wet hair back from his face. For once he wasn’t looking at Charlie, his attention was all on Monroe.  
‘Of course,’ Monroe smirked, tugging his cock again.

Miles yanked off his shirt, wiry muscles flexing under tanned skin, and joined them on the bed. He ran his hand down Monroe’s leg from his knee to the crease of his thigh, watching the jerk and jitter of tense muscles.

‘So just we used to be,’ he said, leaning over. ‘Stupid and horny.’

‘Sounds about right,’ Monroe said.

Miles worked his jaw from side to side – and the snippy, slightly left out (why did she even care?) voice in Charlie’s head sniffed that Monroe wasn’t that big – and braced his arm over Monroe’s stomach. Dark, wet hair brushed Monroe’s pale thigh as Miles wrapped his lips around Monroe’s cock. 

Groaning thickly, Monroe reached back and grabbed Charlie’s hands. He twisted his fingers through hers, pinning them to the bed. Between his legs Miles made wet, throaty sounds as he moved his head up and down. 

Heat curled between Charlie’s thighs, making her wet and achy. Great, she thought, shifting her hips under Monroe’s weight, being a Matheson made you a pervert. She wanted to touch herself, but with Monroe holding her hands she couldn’t. The wedge of his shoulders stopped her even pressing her thighs together.

Monroe was breathing raggedly, chewing his lip, while Miles’ fingers flexed against the hard lines of his stomach. He rolled his hips up, thrusting deeper into Miles’ mouth. The tensed muscles on his thigh bunched under his skin. 

He pulled Charlie’s hands around, sucking on her fingers. The hot scald of his mouth on her skin made her whimper, though maybe nobody noticed, and she wondered if that’s what Miles’ mouth felt like to him. She shifted her hips again, squeezing her thighs against Monroe’s shoulders.

When he came he bit her hand, sinking his teeth into the heel of her palm, and swore thickly under his breath. Miles let Monroe’s wet, shiny cock slip out of his mouth and sat back, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. He smirked at Charlie when he caught her staring and opened his mouth, curling his tongue back, like a kid proving he’d swallowed something gross.

She licked her lips and made herself lot away, so hot it felt like her hair was blushing.

‘My turn,’ Miles said in that thick, dark voice. She couldn’t not look back as Monroe rolled out of her lap. Miles was kneeling at the end of the bed, hands braced back against the footboard, as Monroe unbuttoned his trousers and freed the hard, thick length of him. He ducked his head down and Monroe had done that to her, so she know the hard swipe of his tongue and the careless scrape of teeth against tender skin. She'd never been quite brave enough to thread her fingers through his hair like Miles did, big, scarred hand spread wide.  
Charlie scooted back up to the far end of the bed and pulled her knees up to her chest, wriggling her hand down between the tight press of her thighs. It felt like surrender when she dipped her fingers through her wet curls and into hot flesh.


End file.
